Left Hand
by For-the-Love-of-Band
Summary: After Dave manages to land John in detention over a silly game, he sets out to even the score- just to make things even, he tells himself. Right. (Tumblr drawing prize for spookyvriska.)


**Title:** Left Hand

**Pairing:** Dave Strider x John Egbert

**Category:** Fluff, Humor, Highschoolstuck

**Note: **Lil tumblr drawing prize for spookyvriska

Dave was pretty early to class, but he didn't care.

Usually nobody at all was eager to get into Chemistry, but recent events had given Dave a reason to go against that trend. More than he usually did, anyway.

"Heheh, yeah, I'll see you after Chem." John called to someone as he entered the classroom, exiting the loud stream of traffic that resulted from the lunch period being let out.

There he was. Dave sank a bit in his mdesk like a predator coiling up to pounce on their prey. Their unaware, dorky, four-eyed prey that thought they were good at pranking. They weren't.

"Hey Dave." John greeted him, moving to his seat that was so conveniently located behind Dave's.

"Left hand, give it up." Dave returned coolly.

"What?" It seemed to him that John's already-pale complexion blanched a few more shades toward the color of flour. Not that Dave paid any attention to that, it was just the look on John's face was nothing short of priceless.

"Did I stutter? Shut that trap, you'll catch flies."

John's gaping mouth wrenched shut. Those bright blue eyes of his had taken on a betrayed, disbelieving sheen. Dave imagined this was what the look on Julius Caesar's face when Brutus stabbed him. "Et tu, Dave?" He could hear John say it in his mind.

"Fine." John scowled and dumped his books, folder, notebook, everything he'd been carrying in his left hand into Dave's lap, breaking out of his blindsided stupor.

They'd started this game before first period- it was called 'left hand give it up' or something. If one of the other players caught you carrying something in your left hand and said "Left hand, give it up," they had to give whatever it was to them and wouldn't give it back until the end of class. They'd also made a pact that no teacher could be told, no matter what. John, poor kid, had forgotten already, and now he was paying. He'd been carrying all of his things in his left hand.

With a sigh, John sat down behind Dave and put his head on the desk. Dave smirked, still facing forward.

"Dave, gimme my stuff back."

"No."

"... Jerk."

"Yup."

Within the next two minutes the rest of the students trickled in and John lost all hope of getting his things back before the end of class.

"You agreed to play and you lost." Dave said. "Now you have to deal with it."

"... Jerk."

"No I'm not, you know it." Dave grinned.

"No, you are." John assured him. "Such a jerk. I could write a persuasive essay on how big of an ass you are being right now. If I had any paper!"

"Ha."

"It's not funny," John whined, "I actually have a persuasive essay due next period that I need to work on!"

"You are wrong, that's hilarious." Dave said. "Now hush, it's class time."

The Chemistry teacher, Mr. Bennet, was a gangly, awkward middle-aged man, easily distracted. He was usually tolerant of shenanigans, but only in small doses. If kids repeatedly caused trouble, he would blow a fuse. Dave was under the impression things were only starting to get funny. He was wrong.

"Alright, I need everyone to pass up their worksheets." Mr. Bennet said in that thick, semi-slurred voice he had.

Dave began to pull his work out when he heard a hissed whisper from behind him, "Dave, pass my homework up."

Dave opened John's folder as well. He might've taken the stuff, but he wasn't that cruel. John's Dad placed his son's education and behavior very high on the list of priorities. He wanted the best for his son, and Dave wasn't going to be the one to ruin that. So he passed the homework up.

Mr. Bennet took up the papers and did attendance while John hissed frantic last-second threats, insults, and pleas at Dave.

"Is there a problem back there, John?" Mr. Bennet asked.

"Uh!" John exclaimed. Dave held his breath. Would John tattle and ruin all his fun, or keep his silence as he was supposed to? "N-No. No problem."

"Quiet down then."

Dave snickered quietly. 'Good boy.' He thought to himself.

That was when things began to go downhill. Next, a girl's cell phone went off. Bennet had her take it out to her locker. Then it turned out only about half the class had actually turned their homework in. This had been a recurring problem in the past, but now Mr. Bennet seemed really upset about it. When he called for everyone to start taking notes from the board, which was covered with structural formulas they all apparently needed to know by heart, John poked Dave's shoulder. "Come on, I need my notebook."

"I don't know, man..."

"John!" Mr. Bennet's sharp call made both of them jump in surprise, John much more than Dave.

"Yes?" John's voice was a little shaky.

"Where's your notebook? Or your textbook?" The teacher asked.

"I..." Dave held his breath as John answered, "I don't have them with me."

"Do you have anything with you?"

"No."

Dave could hear the tremor in John's voice that came with lying to a teacher and the uncertainty of what would happen after. But he knew exactly what would occur.

"Detention." Bennet decreed. "There is absolutely no reason for this. I know you guys are coming from lunch, but this kind of behavior is ridiculous. I'm tired of the constant disrespect that we teachers get from students they are only trying to teach..." Bennet continued on his tangent, but it was clear John had checked out after the very first word.

Dave's mouth was slightly open. Had he just... Gotten John detention?

"Go to the office." Mr. Bennet said. "I'll send your slip down after class. And don't even think of hiding in the bathroom. I'm calling them to let you know you're coming, and we'll see what the principal has to say about this."

Dave's ears burned in embarrassment for John, who was now shuffling limply to the door. He wanted to call out in some attempt to save him, but what could he do? He'd only end up dragging himself into trouble. Stupid, he should've done something when Bennet had first called John out.

Dave shook his bangs out in a slight expression of his discomfort at having done this to his best friend. Fuck, John was going to be sitting in after-school detention all by himself- or worse, with that weird stoner kid. He couldn't let that happen.

After class, Dave was on a mission. He dropped by John's locker and put his books away. Kid had put a pin in the mechanism, so he never had to dial his combination. Clever, and it also allowed anyone access at any time. Nobody really had a reason to get in there, though, unless they were looking to steal screenshots from Nicolas Cage movies.

Dave sighed as he retrieved his own things. He'd come up with a plan as Mr. Bennet had lectured earlier, and had three periods to complete it. It shouldn't take that long, but he had to be quick and efficient about it.

His next class was English. He purposely forgot his textbook and folder, showing up with the bare minimum of supplies: a beaten-up red notebook and a single mechanical pencil. He couldn't remember what they did yesterday, a test or something, but it didn't matter what they were doing today. Dave wasn't going to do it anyway. He could get a pop quiz worth half his grade and he'd ignore it readily- what he needed now was after-school detention.

"Yesterday, you took the unit test over 'The Crucible'." Mrs. Cole said once he'd gotten into English, showing up a good minute late. "Today I've decided to let you all relax a bit by watching the film adaption of the play while I grade these tests."

Fuck. Dave narrowed his eyebrows. So he wouldn't need his folder or notebook anyway. He thought quick about how he could make trouble during the film, and managed to come up with throwing little wads of paper at the short-tempered kid in front of him and calling out rudely "Gay," at the scenes with John Proctor and Reverend Hale. His attempts backfired stupendously; the other kid wound up turning around to flip him off before moving to a different seat, and everyone laughed at his calls.

Dammit, why did he have to be so cool and likable? It was seriously a problem. English class passed with Dave struggling to figure out what would be enough to get him detention but not too much to put him in in-school suspension. His Bro would kill him for that. Detention not so much. His next class was French, where he succeeded in doing little but forgetting things such as books and classwork in a vain attempt to get written up. He forgot the proper pronunciations of words when he read, but was gently reminded; unlike Mr. Bennet, the French teacher was patient and mellow. There was no detention to be had that period, and Dave had begun to get frustrated. But then it hit him, and everything clicked into place.

His last class was study hall, where he asked to go to the library and was granted permission. This was a stroke of luck for him- he knew the librarian on current duty would give him detention. When he got there, he moved to a table in the back, took out his phone, opened Pandora, and selected something loud and raucous. He didn't even know who the artist was, or what the song was called, he just blared it as loud as his phone would let him. In the small, quiet room, it was enough, however, and soon the librarian rounded a tall shelf to find Dave with his feet up on the table, leaning back haphazardly in a chair.

"Hey!" He greeted her, letting the chair's front legs meet the cool again. "Rose, I need detention."

"I don't think that'll sort you out." She returned, nodding toward the phone which still broadcasted the obnoxious music. "I wasn't aware there was a Pandora station for disrupting libraries."

"You'd be surprised." Dave shut the music off. "As I was saying, detention."

"Why?" Rose asked. "If it's for some ridiculous ironic purpose, you're certainly in the wrong place."

"I wish. I accidentally got John detention. We were playing left hand give it up and shit got serious."

"Bennet's class. I heard about it." Rose said. "So you think getting yourself detention will recompense for it?"

"Well, yeah." Dave said. "I really wasn't trying to get him in trouble, I was only messing around."

Rose studied him carefully, arms crossed as she leaned against the corner of the bookcase. "So you want me to use my elevated student status to give you detention?"

"Yes." Dave sighed, slumping forward. How could he make it clearer? "I need you, in all your snooty, stuck-up superiority to take pity on a mean, groveling nobody like me."

She rolled her eyes.

"Toss me a spare detention like a careless royal passerby would discard a bronze coin in the direction of a hunched beggar, who would accept it like they had been graciously handed a hundred of them, and would treasure it like some hunched, atrophied cave-dweller in a questionable mental state would a magic ring in some tired medieval fantasy trilogy."

"Alright, okay." Rose cracked a smirk and headed toward the front desk. Dave followed, grinning. Yes. He and John were even now. When John saw him waltz in the detention room like some hero he'd understand what Dave had gone through to get there. Then he'd... Fuck, Dave didn't know. For some reason all Dave could think of was him dressed like Superman carrying John in his arms like Lois Lane, which was strangely appealing. Oh, yeah, he'd save John from sitting in detention by himself like a common delinquent. He deserved better than that, Dave thought.

"Don't see this gesture as me condoning your poor behavior." Rose said, signing the slip. Dave raised an eyebrow as she handed it to him, smirking. "I'm only doing this because we both know, whether you choose to recognize it or not, that you just want an excuse to spend extended amounts of time alone in a room with John."

"That's what you think." Dave said back, quelling a great portion of the blush that arose on his face.

"That's what I know." She said. "Now get out of here, you troublemaker."

Dave looked down at the slip. She had checked boxes for bad language, insubordination, and disruption. He grinned.

"Thanks!" He called over his shoulder, running toward the exit.

Dave was stricken with a sudden fear while at the front desk: what if they scheduled his detention for tomorrow or a later date, and they had to serve them separately? That would get his point across, too, but he wanted John to see him in detention. Not for Rose's reason. For his. That fear was quickly dismissed, however; he'd be serving this afternoon, with John he was sure. He was paused again, wondering why exactly it meant so much he serve detention with John.

That was a stupid question though. He shook it away.

After the bell rang, he reported to the study hall where detention was being held. He was again early, and again didn't care. He wanted to beat John to the room, that was important. Once more, the reason why bugged him a bit. He twisted a little in his seat, watching the clock hit three. John wasn't in yet. The hazy stoner boy came in, looking largely confused. He was probably wondering why he seemed to be sentenced to permanent after-school.

Dave tapped his fingers idly as the overweight detention monitor waddled in and barked at them to keep quiet and busy. Now Dave blanched like John had in Chemistry. Was John late? Had he- no. John wouldn't skip detention. Maybe his dad had taken him out of school. That was a possibility; but if John's dad had pulled him out, odds were he'd been dropped right into Scared Straight for getting a detention. Dave somehow felt guiltier than before, now that he was alone with his thoughts in detention. Even if he wouldn't have been allowed to speak to or look over at John, detention would have been more tolerable, Dave thought. That wasn't weird was it? No. It wasn't. Totally not weird.

Dave watched the clock tick from three to three forty-five. The other kid tried to sleep without getting called out by the red-faced teacher. It didn't really work. Four o'clock. Dave asked to use the restroom and was denied. Wasn't there some law against that? He'd have to find out later. When time four-thirty rolled around, Dave was running his nail against the side of the table unconsciously. He felt half-dead from just sitting there for an hour and a half, and confused as to why John hadn't shown up.

Dave headed out to the student parking lot, pulling his phone out to text John, even if he didn't answer for a bit. He'd wait to see John's explanation to decide who he'd be: the gracious martyr or the wronged friend.

"Dave!" Someone called.

"Huh?" Dave looked up, stuffing his phone in his jacket pocket.

John was jogging toward him, a stupid smile Dave liked on his face. "Hey." He said, like it was any other day.

"Hey yourself, why weren't you in detention?" Dave asked.

"Well, I went to the principal's office and told him about our game." John said firstly. Dave didn't care he had broken the rules now. "Then we called my Dad and had a talk, and he decided that since this was my first infraction he'd let me off the hook!"

"What." Dave said.

"Uh-huh." John nodded, still grinning. "Then Rose caught me and I talked to her."

"And she told you I'd gotten detention for you." Dave said. Fuck, when you said it like that...

"Yup. I stood out here and waited for you to come out."

Dave was about to say some witty retort, but once he opened his mouth he could only smile a bit, getting noticeably red. John giggled at him. "You're blushing."

"Yeah, well... Shut up."

"So what did I miss in Chemistry?" John asked as they walked to Dave's car.

"Just some notes." Dave shrugged. "And me making up a dumbass plan for no reason." He looked pointedly at John.

"Mind if I come over and copy?" John laughed that look off as well.

"Nah, not really."

"Sweet. Oh, and Dave?"

"Huh?" Dave looked over to see John's eyes glimmering mischievously.

"Left hand give it up."

Dave blinked and then grinned. "Nice try, Egderp, I'm not carrying anything."

"I know." John continued to smile, "I meant your actual left hand. Let me have it."

Dave slowed a bit, his blush kicking up again. John didn't mean-

He apparently did, because next John grabbed Dave's empty left hand with his right. Dave stammered a little, looking at it, unable to find protest or otherwise. His face heated up as he looked from the hands to John's face. He was still grinning in that stupid, cute way. Dave's face had to be red as his shirtsleeves.

But he didn't care.


End file.
